


It’s not Beauty that Reigns

by LovelessLadyLazarus



Series: Fast Times at the Iceberg Lounge [1]
Category: Batman (Comics), Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ballroom Dancing, Don't think about the time line too much, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecurity, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Oswald is insecure, Pengy for mayor #2, Victor is just the greatest, ed is so in love, est Ed has issues, i think, kinda cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28741692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelessLadyLazarus/pseuds/LovelessLadyLazarus
Summary: Ed and Ozzie attend a party for Oswald's mayoral campaign. Everything goes well until it doesn't. But in the end things are a bit better than they were before.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot & Victor Zsasz, Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Series: Fast Times at the Iceberg Lounge [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2138982
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	It’s not Beauty that Reigns

Darling, Ease my troubled mind

He’s always slightly surprised when Ed accompanies him to these type of functions. They’re tedious at best and downright _give me those damn scissors so I can slice off my ears like van Gogh did_ at worst. And Ed despises people. Especially when they are forced to adhere to the strict precedent of politeness; a doctrine the Riddler doesn’t understand and frankly doesn’t care for. Though Ed’s presence at his side has undeniable advantages – apart from his stunning good looks of course. Ed by his side served as a reminder that Oswald could be the first openly queer mayor of Gotham, which was good enough of a motivation for him. He supposes Ed agrees with the sentiment as his lover always makes sure to be explicitly handsy at events such as these. When Oswald had asked him about it, Eddie had simply kissed his nose and said, “What is green and all consuming? I’m the jealous type and really can you fault me? You are marvellous my Lovely Bird.” Oswald had blushed prettily and dropped the subject. He knew he was not attractive by any usual standard yet who was he to argue with the smartest man in Gotham? Later he had cursed himself for giving into the Riddler’s flattery so easily.

“You look glum my Little Bird, tell me did you miss me?” Oswald is ripped from his thoughts violently by the Riddler’s voice. He feels his hand around his waist but it’s mostly the scent of Ed he leans into. In lieu of answering Oswald simply closes his eyes and breaths in. Ed smells of fresh pine and chemicals and just a little bit like home. Unwillingly Oswald smiles.

The Riddler meanwhile has begun nibbling at his ear “What’s steamier than a sauna and more deadly than a pride of man eating lions?” he whispers. “A hotshot!” His voice is rough and husky and really Oswald just wants to grab him and take him, away from the vultures to some better place where he can show Ed how much he really does love him. Looking to his side Oswald is overcome with the realisation of how beautiful Eddie looks this evening. He is wearing a silky dark green tuxedo with an accompanying bowler hat which is decorated with a violet ribbon. The suit soft to the touch and incredibly smooth. When Oswald pulls back a hand it sparkles. In fact, all the light in the ballroom seem to reflect in the Riddler’s bedazzled appearance.

“Eddie, did you cover yourself in glitter?” he asks while fixing an umbrella shaped pin on his lover’s green suit jacket. There’s a green carnation in the button hole above it.

“I supposed you might find it appealing but if you don’t-”

“Eddie no! I didn’t say such a thing, really I didn’t think it would be possible for you to look anymore stunning than on our first date, but you’ve outdone yourself, again.”

“Ozzie,” Ed’s words are breathy, his eyebrows twitch, suddenly he seems almost vulnerable. “do you mean that?”

“Of course I do,” Oswald chuckles in relief, of what, he wasn’t quite sure. To distract from his peculiar emotional state he asks “now tell me dear, where did you get that pin?”

He watches the Riddler’s features slide back into place and the familiar cockiness make its swift return “sorry Birdy, the pin in mine but you can have the flower if you like. It’s only fair for you to have something that marks you as mine as well.” He unfastens the flower swiftly and begins fussing with Oswald’s suit when a cameraman approaches. The Riddler leans in and kisses Oswald’s powdered cheek; ever the loving partner. “You think he got that?” he grins.

“Yes Eddie I think he did.”

“Lovely,” his lover goes back to fiddling with his suit when he suddenly stops and jerks, seemingly having remembered something. He reaches behind himself and brings forward a plate. “It took a bit of ruckus, but I managed to secure you an untampered with piece of cake.”

He smirks. Oswald can’t help himself but laugh; his lover looks so delightful; grinning, hands raised holding a piece of chocolate cake like in pagan sacrifice. Were his lips always so red or was he wearing lipstick? His fingers reach for the place on his cheek where he had been kissed moments prior. “Thank you Ed,”

“Oh let me feed you,“ the Riddler’s fingers twitch giddily as he separates a bite of cake using the fork. “Open wide Love-Bird.”

“Eddie we’re in public!” Oswald tries to protest, but the Riddler will have none of it and Oswald moans in pleasure as the cake touches his tongue. It’s the kind so devastatingly sinful it ought to be made illegal. His figure would thank him for it. “I love you.” He breaths out between bites and Eddie’s subsequent smile rivals the dazzling of his suit.

“You too.” He says, handing Ozzie the plate. After another kiss to the cheek, he spins. The Riddler saunters away peacefully whilst hundreds of eyes undress his perfect body. Sometimes Oswald wonders how many people have actually touched that beautiful body – with their minds or otherwise. Despite his love for public intimacy, the Riddler’s romantic history remains shrouded in mystery. Though Oswald knows enough to be sure that he is an outlier, prior to himself the Riddler’s dating gallery had consisted of a myriad of beautiful faces and bodies. And if they couldn’t satisfy Ed – Andy Warhol once wrote that he preferred talkers over beauties because talkers were doing something while beauties were only being it. Perhaps there was hope. He had wealth, status; Eddie adored the lavish lifestyle the two lead together, that much was clear. Now Oswald could only hope the Riddler’s reckless behaviour would not lose him the election because then he might lose Ed and he wasn’t sure he was strong enough to let him go. Not yet anyway.

He watches a woman approach Ed. Her gown is black, white and more extravagant than a fair share of wedding dresses. She herself is infamous; Selina Kyle. Offering him her arm the Riddler takes it. She’s beautiful (especially in that scandalously opulent dress) and Oswald supposes the two would make a fine couple but she’s promised so there’s no reason to fear.

*

“Sup Boss?” Oswald shrieks and whirls around.

“Victor!”

It is indeed, Victor Zsasz; standing in front of him grinning, in one hand he is carrying a half empty tray of cherry champagne truffles, “want one Boss?” he asks, popping one into his mouth.

Oswald declines in slight dismay – had he not told his staff to behave? – and Victor just shrugs, “suit yourself,” he says, then throws a truffle into the air to catch between his teeth.

Oswald looks at him in mild disgust, “where did you get those?” but he’s not really interested in the answer. Selina might be a poor choice for Ed, but there were copious amounts of beautiful women in a city as wicked as Gotham, or men for that matter. There were rumours floating about, claiming that Ed and the good Doc Johnny Crane had been an item at some point in time yet neither had ever confirmed anything, so it was anyone’s guess at this point. He supposes he could just ask Eddie, but that seems scary, besides it’s not like the good doctor’s looks are anything to write home about.

“Took them off the intern they have tied up in one of the storage closets. Such a lovely girl, she didn’t even scream.”

Oswald nods absentmindedly and Victor sighs. He leans in closely, “what’s bothering you Penguin?” he whispers in a straining high-pitched tone. Unsure of how to respond Oswald awkwardly plays with the carnation Ed had given him and Victor seems to understand. “Trouble in paradise? Because between you and me I don’t think she’s worth worrying over.” He winks obscenely.

“I know _that_.“ Oswald snaps irritated, of course Selina isn’t a real threat, but she is indicative of what’s to come; the people Ed could leave him for. Speaking of which, where was he anyway. A sinking feeling of anxiousness arises as the realisation of having lost sight of Edward for the second time this evening dawns on him.

Victor groans in frustration, “then what is it Boss? Spit it out.”

Oswald sighs, then stares straight ahead, “I think he’s going to leave me.”

Victor carefully lifts a glass of champagne off the tray and finishes it in a swing, then says, articulating very carefully “and why would you think that?”

Uneasily Oswald fidgets with the carnation further, “I don’t believe he’ll walk out on me today or even tomorrow. But I fear he is intending on leaving me sooner rather than later.”

“Okay,” Victor looks at him perplexed “every relationship fails eventually. Why can’t you just enjoy yourself for once?” He pops another two truffles into his mouth.

“You don’t understand!” Oswald all but shrieks, “my mother once told me that life only gives you one great love and I’ve found mine, in him.” He pauses, “I don’t know what I’ll do when he leaves him.”

Victor’s fingers drum of the tray anxiously, “Just what you usually do.” His voice has reached an almost singsong kinda tone. “Besides I doubt he’ll leave you anytime soon. You lavish him with gifts. Then there’s the eye thing; that was very nice of you, by the way.” Oswald isn’t sure how to reply to that.

It’s true, both things actually. He spent hours, days even, pondering over what sinfully expensive gifts he might bestow upon his lover. Ed always blushes so gorgeously or smiles in a gloriously bashful manner. It’s nice, knowing he can make Ed happy in some way, even if it is desperately shallow. As for the eye, sometimes Oswald has the feeling it was the only reason for the Riddler’s constant in his life. The guilt he sees in those beautiful viridian eyes every time they look at each other too long is too palpable. Ed would always avert his gaze first but pull Oswald closer and burry his face in the other’s chest, shaking with ever so softened sobs. Oswald never asked, he didn’t need to, after almost fifteen years of uneasy alliance word become cheap, a barrier to understanding which is reached through pure emotion alone (or so Oswald tells himself). But he couldn’t possibly say these things out loud, especially not to Zsasz who is blissfully sucking chocolate of his pinkie, right next to the silver ring engraved with a cursive _j_. “Sometimes I just think that might not be enough. He’s been _distant_ lately. ” Oswald had written it off at first, but suspicion has a way of creeping back, so his surprise was massive when Ed had kissed him on the nose and said, “I’ve got business to attend to now, but I’ll see you at the party. Eight at the latest I promise.”

Victor groans, he is almost out of truffles and this is not a conversation to have without supplement drugs. “Has it ever occurred to you that this is a conversation you should have with him not me?”

“ _What?_ ”

“Communication, it’s important.” Victor nods him head vigorously. Perhaps Victor was right, however what he was suggesting would require a level of exposure of Oswald he wasn’t sure he was ready to show. After all he was vulnerable and the Riddler was prone to emotion manipulation.

“Right, I’ll better go look for him then,” Oswald sighs, “why don’t you give that dreadful ginger boytoy of yours my regards.” When Victor doesn’t move Oswald sighs again, “that’s your cue to leave, Victor.”

“Aye-aye Sir,” he raises two fingers in mock salute before silently dissolving into the crowd of party goers.

*

Oswald stands alone for a couple of minutes, he knows he isn’t ready to talk to Ed. Soon he is approached by various dealers, player and other vultures, all trying to land themselves a piece of him. Eddie had swiftly joined, lain an arm around his shoulder and stretched his legs over his lap.

“You wanna dance?” he whispers.

“Eddie I can’t, this is important,” he whispers back, which is quite a feat considering he is simultaneously engaged in two horrendously dull conversations with people who want his money thrown their way.

Ed lip twitched in a way that means to imply he is considering his options when really he has already made up his mind, “just one dance Ozzie. Besides it’s your place. They all flock to you for favours but it’s not your duty to hear them. They need you more than you need them.”

“Fine,” it’s not like he can actually refuse Ed anything anyway. Oswald is still excusing them as his partner eagerly drags him onto the dancefloor.

“Are you enjoying the evening?” Ed asks leaning against him.

“Evermore so, now that I’m with you.”

The Riddler laughs and leans down to peck him on the side of the lip as Oswald sees a flash from the corner of his eye, “what was that for?”

He doesn’t really need to ask. The papers like seeing them together, a sweet romance always boosts popularity, hence the flowers and hence the open displays of affection. Still the Riddler’s answer manages to surprise him; “I like showing off what is mine, especially when it’s so ravishing as you are Lovely Bird.” It was ridiculous! How could someone who claimed to have no idea of politeness or social norms be so charming? Perhaps he shouldn’t think of that now, perhaps he could just lean in, against Ed Nygma’s chest, close his eyes and slow dance to the soft Tchaikovsky playing in the background.

*

Ed twirls him around a few rounds, however at some point Oswald simply cannot keep up anymore. Attentive that he is the Riddler asks, “it’s your leg isn’t it?” He doesn’t actually give Oswald any time to respond, “that’s fine, I mean not that you’re in pain, that’s not fine at all, but that,” he pauses, “I don’t feel like dancing anymore anyway.” And he drags Oswald off the floor and onto a balcony.

“Take it in Ozzie,” the Riddler says, as Oswald lights himself a cigarette. Ed detests the habit – _“and I happen to detest my partner getting locked up in Arkham due to his ludicrous insistence of leaving clues whenever he commits a crime.”_

Oswald chuckles and breaths out smoke. It’s grey and heavy and obscures the world the way his love for Ed obscures the Riddler; Beautiful, lethal and so addicting. “What am I looking at dear? The city at night is magnificent I grant you, but it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

The Riddler smiles at him endearingly, “it’s not just _the city_ Lovely Bird; it’s your kingdom. All these people down there should be worshipping you. It’s the least you deserve.”

“Ours,”

“ _What?_ ”

Oswald looks up tentatively, “it’s ours, if you like.”

And for the second time that evening Ed Nygma stares at him wide eyed asking, “Ozzie, do you mean that?”

“Of course I do. I love you.” And Ed melts away, lunges forward and finally kisses Oswald properly for the first time this evening.

They separate hot and heavy. Oswald is flushed and panting, and Ed’s smile is brighter that the flashing advertisements that light up town square. “Fuck, I wasn’t gonna do this here,” he mutters, but it’s more to himself that Oswald.

And suddenly he’s on one knee and Oswald’s world stops on its axis. Like through a veil he sees Ed take his hands in his. He feels his fingers being caressed softly. “Ozzie,” Ed says, his voice sounds shaky, distant, like it’s coming from under the sea. Drowning, “Ozzie!” a pause. He looks down at Ed’s blurred face and it’s at this point Oswald realises he’s crying.

“Oswald Chesterfield Cobblepot – what can be found inside every tree and in the sound of every bell? It can seal-”

Ed breaks off and all Oswald can do is stare down. “A ring,” he whispers. His voice is hoarse but whether from shock or tears, he isn’t quite sure.

Ed has started looking increasingly panicked when he suddenly seems to remember something. Frantically, his fingers start digging through the pockets of his suit. “Yes, I have one.” And indeed, he does. When finally found, he holds it up triumphantly, his whole body quivering with either sobs or giggles. “Do you like it?”

The ring itself is beautiful, of course it is. A myriad of gold strings interwoven like so many waves on sun drenched shores. There’s a simple, even natural elegance about it, Ed Nygma had witnessed it in one person alone; Oswald. The ring itself is further decorated with green rhinestones, emeralds certainly, there’s only a few of those though, Ed didn’t want to overdo it – in some cases less really was more.

What feels like eternities pass and all Oswald does is stare. Finally, Ed can’t take it anymore, “Os, say something,”

“It’s beautiful Ed. I can’t take it.”

“ _What?_ ”

Oswald takes a deep breath, “I can’t take it Edward.” And what was the Riddler thinking?

He stares up at him, a blank expression on his face Oswald has never seem before (and hopes he’ll never have to see again). “But,” he chokes, “you said you loved me, just now, you did.”

“I do.”

“I don’t understand. Then why?”

“Put simply, because you don’t return my affection.” It felt strange saying it out loud. The pain suddenly felt so human.

The Riddler has gotten up. “What is that supposed to mean?” he hisses.

Anxiously Oswald takes a step back. The Riddler’s green eyes suddenly seem like the ocean, cold, dangerous and unforgiving. Perhaps he should have simply played the game- “What- What do you mean? That I don’t lo- love you?” Edward Nashton stuttered as a child.

“Do you?”

“I-” Ed, the Riddler, hesitates and Oswald closes his eyes.

“You can’t say it, can you?” There’s a pause in which the Riddler’s mouth opens and closes frantically, any other situation Oswald would have mocked him for finally being at a loss for words. “You don’t love me.” Saying it out loud is cathartic.

“Oswald I,” suddenly he just looks crestfallen.

“It’s fine.” He has to pause, it was fine, wasn’t it? “It’s fine Ed, that you’re only with me for my wealth and status. I enjoy this lavish lifestyle just as much as you do. And I owe you a lot, even if you don’t actually feel the way I do. Myself I doubt I could actually be loved. You are so incredibly sweet, hell you treat be better than anyone I’ve ever been with but please don’t toy with emotions. I’ve been through too much for that now. Allow me that dignity at least.”

The Riddler remains silent yet his face is contorted with pain, but there’s something else in his eyes, Oswald can’t read it through the fresh veil of tears welling from his eyes. He continues, “But, you can’t possible expect us to settle down in that sort of arrangement. Don’t force yourself to stay with me because you’re afraid to lose status. I love you too much to allow to throw your life away like that.” Of course there was always the possibility that Ed had planned to just divorce him in a couple of years and take him for everything he was worth in court-

The silence that follows is deafening. “So that’s what you think I am?” the Riddler asks, uncomfortably slowly. “Some gold-digging fuckboy who only wants you for your wealth?”

“I well-”

“I can’t believe you Oswald! After all that we’ve been through!” He makes a sound in the back of his throat that might have been a sob, might have been a laugh. He presses one hand to his mouth, drowning it out, then turns on his heels. Just before reaching the balcony door, he pulls the ring from its box and throws it in front of Oswald’s feet. Then he’s gone.

*

The first thing Oswald does it bend down to feel around for the ring. It might be a shallow and materialistic thing to do but Oswald had not gotten to where he is by letting good jewellery go to waste. Besides, the search for the ring was simpler that contemplating any of the problems that had arisen within the last few minutes. Oswald sighs in relief when his fingers finally hit the cool metal. He turns it in his hand. The inset emeralds truly are gorgeous, between the tears and the fleeting light they are almost the exact colour of Ed Nygma’s eyes. Slowly he brings the ring up to his lips and kisses it.

Cautiously he pulls a mirror from a pocket and confirms his worst fears. His cheeks are covered I dark lines of running mascara and eyeliner. His eyes are red. How was he supposed to go back inside and face anyone looking like this? What would the people say?

However, the larger and far more frightening problem was Edward Nygma. They had arrived together, naturally and naturally assumed they would leave together as well. Where was the Riddler now? What if Ed had taken the limo and was already have way to Vegas?

He uses a convenient handkerchief and his tiny mirror to clean his face, though most of his attempts remained futile. Were someone to look him in the eye, it would still be incredibly obvious he had been crying. Miraculously, no one does. He supposes it was due to his downcast head and awkward movement. The Penguin was proud, confident, it was all he had, something to make up for his lacklustre appearance.

Ed is sitting in the limo, in the passenger seat, he takes no note of Oswald as he gets in, only continues staring ahead. Had Oswald been able to see his fingers he would have witnessed Ed folding an origami penguin out of a check.

*

The ride takes an uncomfortably long time. They arrive at the mansion and Ed still won’t talk to him, won’t even look at him. Had he really hurt him that much? The Riddler was a shameless flirt who could sweet talk half of Gotham, while the other half would be frustrated enough to strangle him. He always was a rather polarising figure. Could Oswald really blame himself for assuming he was just after what everyone else was with him? Ed immediately vanishes, the moment they’re inside and while Oswald takes off his coat and shoes he decides it’s the perfect time to take a bath.

He has just found the right temperature for the water to not boil him alive when a silhouette appears in the doorway. Oswald had left the light off, so he wouldn’t have to bear his reflection staring back at him from various spots around the room. The Riddler in the doorway is dark, but his stepping out of the almost ethereal glow of the bedroom is menacing and fabulously alluring. Had they been in any other situation he would have jumped him right then and there.

“Oswald I wanna talk.”

He nods, slowly, like in trance before following Ed into the living room. He walks too fast, Oswald has to hobble to keep up with him. When the finally stops and turns, his eyes are still so cold and empty Oswald would have run, had he the strength to. “Sit Oswald.”

“Are you leaving me?”

The Riddler gives him a pained look, “No Oswald, I’m not.” He says quietly.

“Really?” Oswald’s lips twitch cautiously upwards.

“Why do you always have to question everything I say?”

Oswald closes his eyes, “business partners,” it’s a low blow, he knows it is, but he’s faced enough humiliation in one evening to really care to be sensitive.

“I’m sorry,” is what Ed says quietly and somehow it isn’t what Oswald wants to hear at all. But before he can say that or tell Ed that _really it’s alright_ , he continues, “I did so many things to you and told you I don’t love you so many times, you probably will never truly trust me ever again.”

Oswald wants to object, not because anything Ed is saying is factually incorrect but because he too made his fair share of mistakes. Half a lifetime ago when the two of them had been young and confused obsession and validation for love. Yet he had always loved Ed, even when he hated him, when they’d hated each other, fuelled by a spite only found between past lovers and the like. But Oswald doubts bringing up any of these past wounds will help the situations. Instead he says, “you never told me you love me but you said you don’t so many times, what am I supposed to think?”

“I’ve changed,” Ed says with surprising conviction, “and I’m sorry Oswald, it’s just a little hard for to accept that you seem to have thought that I was just some gold-digger who wants his claws in the most powerful man in Gotham. I don’t even know who to blame for that, you or myself! Fuck!” he throws something, Oswald can’t quite see what, against the wall. Ed never has violent outbursts, that was always Oswald’s vice. Ed used to tease him mercilessly about it.

“I haven’t been the most powerful man in Gotham for a long time.”

Ed raises his eyebrows, “but you could be, not the point.” He sighs, “what do I have to do to prove to you, that I care about you? Considering asking for your hand in marriage does not seem to have done the trick?”

What could Ed do? Oswald wasn’t sure, could he trust Ed ever again? Could Ed trust him? _He already does,_ a small part of his whispers, but Oswald isn’t strong enough to listen. “Tell me you love me?”

“Okay,” the Riddler chuckles, but instead of leaning in and saying those magical words he says, “your bath is ready.”

*

Lying in the steaming water Oswald wonders what the point of the prior conversation was. He is sure the Riddler had wanted something and judging by his reactions he seemed to have gotten it, while he himself was none the wiser. Typical.

He had pulled the ring from his coat pocket and is now playing with it. The stones glimmer brilliantly in a splendid organic green. Of course, they were green, the Riddler was nothing if not arrogant, but Ed. Ed likes him, likes him enough to want to marry him apparently. And the ring is beautiful and so is Ed. Though Oswald doubts that particular offer still stands.

In European courts when a lady threw her glove at the foot of a knight or noble it was a sign of great disrespect; Ed had thrown what was meant as an engagement ring. He remembered what Victor had asked him, _why couldn’t he just enjoy things?_

He is still contemplating after the water had gotten cold.

*

When he emerges from the bathroom music is playing. It’s an old Hungarian song, his mother sometimes sung him to sleep with. Ed must have put on the record player they only keep for aesthetic reasons, _and to wistfully bemoan a lost youth_. Ed has lit soft candles throughout the living room, they douse it in a gentle sort of light. Ed himself is leaning against a corner, his silhouette a twinkling green.

“Ed?”

Ed saunters forward, takes Oswald into his arms and before he knows what is happening they are waltzing, Ed twirls him around effortlessly and for a split-second Oswald looks down the flying edges of his bathrobe and feels beautiful.

When the song is done Ed smoothly pulls Oswald to an armchair and settles him in his lap. “I’m so incredibly in love with you Oswald,” he whispers, “so in love is scares me sometimes. But I want to be brave, like you. I want us to be happy together.”

Oswald nods, then sobs. What had he done to have this beautiful man look at him like that? Ed holds him the whole time as he cries into Ed’s chest, “I love you too,” me murmurs between sobs. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, “there’s so many things I have done to you. So many things-“

“Hush my Lovely Bird,” Ed silences him softly, “there is so much to talk about, but we can talk about our troubled past some other time, for now, just kiss me like there’s no tomorrow.”

Oswald looks up and Ed is so delightfully blushed he can’t help himself but lean forward and softly join their lips. Their kiss is salty, Oswald can taste his own tears. And somewhere behind melancholic Hungarian music he hears rain falling. Beautiful.

**Author's Note:**

> Perhaps they should go outside, let the rain cleanse them of all their sins, but truly Oswald is quite comfortable inside the mansion. He thinks of the ring in his bathrobe pocket, well that was a matter for another day. 
> 
> I'm actually pretty happy with the way this turned out.  
> Also Yes I really do ship Victor and Jerome and no I have no good justification for it.


End file.
